


i envy the birds, high up in the trees

by knoxoursavior



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 02:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17716334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knoxoursavior/pseuds/knoxoursavior
Summary: For the longest time, Eiji doesn’t get it.





	i envy the birds, high up in the trees

For the longest time, Eiji doesn’t get it.

  
  
  


The first few weeks are the hardest, but Eiji gets through them. He doesn’t really remember how, doesn’t really know what happened for most of those days, but he dreams of a hand around his and another wrapped around the heart he holds in his chest, the heart that isn’t his, keeping him alive with every beat of it, no matter how unfamiliar it may be.

It’s only after that he learns it’s Sing who stayed with him.

  
  
  


For the longest time, Eiji thought that it was unfair, that the world was cruel to strike Ash down right at the moment when he was about to take flight, and then he thought that Ash was cruel to tuck his wings tight to his body so he could crash even quicker to the ground. 

Eiji was the one who left New York, yes, but he was waiting, hoping, holding onto all their promises, their dreams laid out in the open by their pretty words and their starry-eyed fantasies of flying free. He was the one who gave his heart and soul away, yes, but he didn’t expect Ash to take them to his grave.

  
  
  


Eiji builds himself a life in New York.

He rents an apartment that Sing helps him pick out, makes a name for himself as a photographer, works day and night, doing odd jobs in between trips around the city to take photos for his portfolio. He meets up with old friends when he has time, stays at home with Sing and Buddy when he doesn’t, goes out for a walk by himself when it feels like he’s stuck in an infinity of memories.

It isn’t the life he’d thought he’d have, all those years ago, when he bought an extra ticket to Japan and poured his heart out into a letter that wasn’t meant to be stained with blood. It isn’t, but it’s the life he has now, and he will continue on living it.

That’s what he tells himself anyway, what he whispers repeatedly into the deadly silence when he’s alone and the hole in his chest is bleeding out once again.

  
  
  


For the longest time, Eiji didn’t understand why Ash did what he did, why he chose the shortest path to the end instead of a longer one with Eiji by his side.

Now, though, Eiji thinks he’s found himself in the same position Ash must have been then, when he had a letter from Eiji in his hand and a gaping hole in his abdomen, spilling out what of his life was left uncorrupted.

  
  
  


Eiji doesn’t know why Sing insists on staying with him.

Well.

That’s a lie.

There have been too many times that Eiji has balanced himself precariously on the ledge of his bedroom window, a simple mistake away from falling and breaking his bones along with Sing’s heart, stuffed haphazardly into the hole in his chest. Too many times that he has found himself standing still in the middle of the street with his mind suspiciously quiet and his eyes glazed over, reflecting someone who shouldn’t be there. Too many times that Eiji has let go of his will to live and thought,  _ ah _ ,  _ maybe this will feel like flying _ .

It’s Sing who catches him then, who pulls at the string around his heart and reminds Eiji that flying would mean leaving someone behind.

Most of the time, Eiji is grateful for Sing.

  
  
  


For the longest time, Eiji struggles with himself.

It’s hard not to give in to the dark, ugly thoughts rearing in his head, just like it’s hard to get up in the mornings when his head hurts so badly and his eyes feel like they’re bathing in acid. Just like it’s hard to be anything but indifferent in the face of danger, under the threat of death, even if he knows exactly who’s holding onto him, still hoping that he’ll learn to live with his clipped wings and his blood-stained skin.

  
  
  


The walls are thin in Eiji’s apartment. Makes it hard to hide that he’s crying himself to sleep almost every night, but it’s fine. There’s only Buddy, who curls up next to him, and Sing, who hasn’t seemed to realize that hearing Eiji through the wall between their rooms means that Eiji can hear him too.

Eiji isn’t the only one suffering, but he forgets, sometimes.

  
  
  


For the longest time, Eiji doesn’t get it.

He’s starting to, now.

  
  
  


Eiji thinks that Sing is in love with him.

It’s a little hard to remember now, what it felt like to be in love, but when he sees the way Sing looks at him, the way Sing so obviously tries not to reach out too much, the way Sing gives himself away by attempting not to do exactly that—well. It’s hard to convince himself that it’s anything  _ but _ .

And this is—

This makes things complicated.

Eiji doesn’t want Sing to go through the same thing as he did, the same thing he’s still going through right now, but he also doesn’t want to make Sing wait, doesn’t want to give Sing any hope when Eiji’s still looking to the sky, searching for any sign of Ash, any sign that he should follow. He doesn’t want Sing to suffer, not when he’s done so much for Eiji. Not when he’s the only reason Eiji hasn’t succumbed to his own suffering all these years.

A clean break is what Sing needs. Space, time to move on.

Eiji can give him that at least.

  
  
  


For the longest time, Eiji doesn’t get it.

He does, now.

  
  
  


Eiji does it when Sing is out on a business trip.

It’s the night before Sing is supposed to fly back. He answers Sing’s call like he always does, tells Sing, “I’m fine,” tells him, “Don’t worry,” tells him, “You’ll be back soon,” and when Eiji finally hangs up, he makes sure to say goodbye. He keeps his phone in his jacket pocket, keeps it pressed against his chest when he goes up to the roof to take one last picture of the moon and when he leaves his camera on the kitchen counter with a note that says, simply,  _ thank you. _

The phone doesn’t ring for the rest of the night. Not while Eiji is walking to the library, not while he goes up those same steps Ash must have traversed so many times when he was still alive, not while he’s pulling back the same chair Ash must have sat on, bled on, died on.

Not while he’s taking the knife Sing keeps hidden in his room and plunging it into his abdomen, right where Ash was stabbed, right where Ash bled out to his death.

Eiji gets it now.

  
  
  


Eiji dies with a smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on [twitter](http://twitter.com/singeiji) if ur uhh not mad at me


End file.
